The Fire Festival
by Lily Kalanoa
Summary: Amazing what things can be hidden behind masks. When the face is hidden, the identity is lost. Who's to say this is a bad thing? Stuck in the middle of episode 116  The Deserter. Aang x Zuko Yaoi


**Author**: Lily Kalanoa

**Story**: The Fire Festival

**Genre**: Avatar: The Last Airbender - Ramoce

**Rating**: M / R

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but my laptop, which put me into significant debt. All characters and series belong to their respective creators, I just like to torture them, heh heh.

**Warnings**: Citrus-y but nothing explicit. Yaoi.

**Pairings**: Zuko x Aang

**Spoilers**: Very few, even for the episode itself

**Author** **Notes**: Oops, forgot to add this top bit when I posted the first time. This fic is a gift to the wonderful Megami-chan! She lurvs the ZukoxAang and has shown me its joys as well. She liked it and I hope you all do, too I'm writing more Avatar stuff, I promise, I'll get it up eventually.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"The Fire Festival?" Zuko asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Yes! There's a village near here that's throwing a marvelous festival." Uncle Iroh beamed at the young fire prince. "You haven't been to one since you were a boy!"

"That's because I have more important things to do," Zuko ground out, already turning away from the older man.

"Nonsense, Prince Zuko. The Festival isn't just for children, I tried to tell you this last year." Zuko crossed his arms, his back completely turned. Iroh sighed. "Zuko, the men need the break, it's tradition, after all."

There was a long pause and Iroh smiled, knowing he'd won. Zuko sighed, "We need to resupply. As long as we aren't more than a couple of hours." The teen blinked, shocked as his uncle reached around him, holding out a small mask. "What is that?"

"Come on, Prince Zuko, it's tradition!" The mask was finely crafted, much better than the type you could buy at the festivals themselves. It was made of fine ceramic, dyed feathers decorating the top of the serious, regal looking face. Iroh had attached a matching mask to his own head, pushing it up over his receding hair. "Everyone wears a mask at festival, you can't participate if you don't." Zuko continued to glare before Iroh gave a shrug. "We're already approaching port."

Angrily, the teen snatched the mask, stalking out of his room.

-o-o-o-o-o-

"Flaming fire flakes . . . hot," Katara sing-songed, watching her brother fan his tongue like a fool.

"I'm going to go look around," Aang chirped, darting off into the crowd.

"Aang, wait a minute! We need to stick together!"

"Wow! Look at that, weapon demonstrations!"

"Sokka!" Katara sighed in exasperation. She stalked after her brother; Aang at least knew how to take care of himself, if she left the other boy alone he was likely to bring the entire Fire Nation army down on their heads.

It didn't take long for Aang to find something that caught his interest. A large group of people, all gathered around a bonfire, dancing. Cautiously, he crept closer to the crowd, watching the people twirl and sing. He remembered this, from long ago, years before he'd known he was the avatar even. He'd been to a festival like this once with Kuzon: The Sun Dance. The outer ring of people, almost like a border to separate the participants from everyone else, was a ring of trained dancers, men and women who knew the songs and the correct moves, helping to spread the atmosphere. In the center of the crowd, dancing close to the fire, were several women, also trained but far above the level of the other dancers. Kuzon had told him they had to train for years before they could be selected. These women were draped in flowing scarves that jumped and floated around them as they danced, making them look like an extension of the flames at their backs.

Between the two rings of dancers, people came and did whatever they could. Participants from the village, merely enjoying the festival. And mixed into the crowd, Aang knew, there was one person that was very special, holding the power to do anything they wanted until the music faded: the fire lord. For every song played, a crown was placed on someone's head, marking them as fire lord until the song was over and in those four or five minutes, they could command almost anything of the participants and it would be granted.

The current song stopped, bringing the various dancers to a halt. The outer ring turned inward, clapping enthusiastically. The women at the center didn't stop moving, continuing to dance with no music. After a moment, one of them stepped forward, spun to the fire, bowed deeply, and walked into the crowd. Aang watched as she approached a small girl, younger even than him. The dancer removed a circular crown from the girl's head and then reached down to lift the child's mask, revealing the face of their last fire lord. The child squealed in delight and the dancer moved away, choosing the next lucky participant.

Aang looked around quickly, wanting to join in the dance, but also wanting to blend in a little more before he did. A discarded fire nation robe lay across a chair nearby; most likely it belonged to the man standing in front of the chair, but Aang was fairly sure he wouldn't need it before Aang could return it. He snatched the garment up, slipping his arms through the too-big sleeves, and darted into the crowd of dancers.

The music started again and Aang glanced around, looking for the new fire lord. After a moment he spotted her, a tall woman with flowing hair. She was moving towards him and had his hands clasped in her own before Aang knew what had happened. A moment of panic was quickly discarded as the woman merely spun, whipping Aang around quickly several times. She released the avatar, leaving him to regain his feet, dizzy, and did the same thing to another child nearby. Aang burst into laughter and started dancing, still dizzy and enjoying the way it made him move.

After several minutes, the music faded again and Aang stopped with those around him, applauding the musicians and other dancers. One of the center dancers stopped and bowed to the fire while her fellows continued to drift and flow like living flames. She moved towards the fire lord, deftly removing the small crown from the taller woman's head and pushing up her mask. She had a young man's hand clasped in her own and the dancer pushed his mask up as well. The man smiled, darted in to kiss his 'lord', and the two of them left the circle of dancers.

The dancer was moving already, gracefully parting the crowd, her scarves trailing behind her. Aang froze where he was, not trusting his eyes; it looked like she was moving towards him! Then the cheap metal crown touched his head and the dancer leaned forward, placing a kiss on his smiling mask. "My favorite mask," she whispered, and then she was gone, back to rejoin her fellow dancers. Beneath the smiling mask, Aang beamed, already looking around. He'd never been a fire lord before.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

This side trip was a complete waste of time, Zuko thought angrily. But it had happened last year – Uncle somehow convincing him to stop so the men could enjoy this time of year – and Zuko knew it would happen every year no matter where he happened to be. Of course, once he returned home, he could hardly argue the point, the Fire Festival was one of the most exuberant festivals all year. Zuko could remember going to these as a child, enjoying the games and food. His favorite part was the Sun Dance, and it didn't take him long to find it in the small village.

He remembered watching this with his mother. She would describe the sun dancers in the middle with such awe. She knew their moves almost well enough to join them, but her duties prevented it. Zuko had always been one of the first to receive the Flame's Crown, marking him as fire lord for a few minutes at least. His favorite 'command' had always been to dart up to one of the sun dancers, bringing them into the main crowd to dance with him.

He'd watched once, when his mother had been given the crown. She had taken not a dancer as a partner, but one of their scarves. The dancer had beamed, attaching the flowing material to the other woman's neck and wrists. His mother had taken the dancer's place and began to move with the music, a living flame. She had been so beautiful, almost ethereal in the way she glowed in the light. Many of the people there had stopped to watch her, entranced by the beauty. Zuko could remember thinking 'that's my mother, and she's dancing for me' as she moved, smiling, never looking away from him.

Zuko shook his head harshly, trying to erase the memories. That had been a very long time ago and those memories were best forgotten. He watched in silence as the people danced, the firelight reflecting off masks carved of ceramic and wood. One of the dancers of the outer ring noticed him and smiled, beckoning him forward. Zuko stepped back, a blatant refusal, and crossed one arm across his chest.

The music ended and Zuko watched as the current fire lord had her crown removed. The dancer pushed up her mask and the man she was with darted in, claiming a kiss before anything else could happen. Both smiled and rushed from the circle, eager to continue their evening. There was a pause as the dancer moved off to crown someone else, a young boy in a smiling mask ringed by yellow leaves. After another moment, the dancer returned to her place and the music began.

The boy had no idea how to dance, Zuko noted with a dry smile. He moved like an animal, jumping and spinning, throwing his arms every way. It lacked any sort of form, but it matched his smiling mask and everyone dancing around him was laughing at the antics. Perhaps he did know how to dance and was merely choosing not to. Then the boy paused, his masked face scanning the outlying crowd quickly.

Zuko stiffened as the joyful body darted towards him. The crowd parted for him and the dancers on the perimeter quickly expanded, two of them moving behind Zuko and thereby bringing him within the territory of this lord. One little hand was held out, palm up, an invitation to the banished prince. Zuko started to shake his head, looking up as if for help. Most of the people were watching him, several of the sun dancers smiling at the scene. Zuko remembered doing this same thing, drawing one of those personified flames to dance with him. At the Sun Dance, you weren't supposed to refuse the chosen fire lord.

The boy's hand was cool in Zuko's warmer grasp and as soon as he had a hold of the prince, he darted back into the crowd. Zuko felt his other hand captured and the two of them spun quickly, making him dizzy. He laughed a little, despite himself, enjoying the dance. It wasn't the type of scripted thing the sun dancers did, but something more primal, limbs and bodies moving with the music, no restrictions. The short fire lord grabbed Zuko's hands often, spinning them both around and renewing the dizziness that had begun to fade.

Zuko was honestly disappointed when the music drew to its end. He dropped his arms, turning his gaze on the sun dancers as one of them stepped forward and turned to pay her respects to the flame. But then the boy was moving again. He quickly put the cheap metal crown on the ground, his other hand locked around Zuko's wrist, and darted through the crowd. Shocked, it was all Zuko could do not to fall as he was dragged after him into the darkness, away from the fire.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Aang's heart was racing. He'd been dancing on a high from the moment the crown had touched his head. He had known it meant he had to cut his dance short – it wouldn't do to have the 'fire lord' revealed to actually be the avatar – but all he could think about was that for the next several minutes, any wish he had would be granted. Despite that power, he had only wanted to make people happy and the laughter he received had fueled him even more.

He really had just wanted to make people happy. So when he saw a boy in fairly simple clothes and an elaborate mask watching him, staying just outside the ring of people, he'd leapt at the chance to 'help'. The crowd had swelled, the outer dancers seeing his plan and conspiring to help him. The teen had hesitated, resisting, but then Aang had him in his grip and the two quickly lost themselves in the music.

Then the boy had laughed, and Aang had realized exactly what he had done. He had never heard that laugh before, but the timber was the same, the tone and pitch hinting at how he would sound when he spoke. The music stopped and Aang went cold, knowing he had to get out of there before the dancers revealed him. His dance partner was watching those women and Aang could read the disappointment in his posture even without seeing his face. He still looked so sad.

So Aang had run, given the teen no choice but to follow, leaving the crown behind him on the ground. Away from the people, away from the light. "Stop," his captive gasped, erasing what little doubt Aang still held as to his identity. "What are you doing?"

Aang slowed, finally stopping in an ally a good distance away, far removed from people. Zuko was panting hard, hands on his knees to regain his breath. Aang didn't feel the strain; considering what he could do, he'd been moving fairly slowly, even after the exuberant dance. He kept quiet, watching the other teen suck in hungry lungfulls of air. Zuko raised his head, looking around at their surroundings. Aang could almost sense the question and moved before it could be asked. He caught the other's hands again, once more spinning them both until they were dizzy.

Zuko had regained his breath only to have his balance stolen and he stumbled slightly when he was released. Then Aang was beside him again, one hand at his waist and the other on the taller boy's shoulder as he began to spin considerably slower. He could feel Zuko stiffen again, startled at the sudden change. There was a pause and then his hands drifted to their own places: one on Aang's shoulder, the other removing Aang's hand from his own shoulder and holding it in a loose grip.

Aang's heart was still racing, he was beginning to think it would burst from his chest. They could still hear the music, muffled by the distance but still there, and Aang used it as a meter, slowly swaying with the other boy. As the song faded, Zuko laughed again, pulling away. "You are a bad dancer."

Aang just shrugged, allowing the other to retreat for a moment. He waited, watching as the prince's mask shifted to look up and down the ally again. There was still tension in his shoulders and Aang could just picture the frown on his lips. Once more he grabbed the teen's hands, spinning them around quickly, for much longer this time. He released his hands suddenly, sending them both flying slightly and fetching up against one wall to catch his balance.

Zuko hit the other wall before wobbling and dropping to the ground rather hard. Aang was there in an instant, making sure the teen hadn't been hurt. There appeared to be no damage, Zuko shifted, his backside no doubt rather sore, legs and arms thrown out at odd angles. Aang was kneeling over one of his legs, leaning close to inspect his shoulder when he heard Zuko chuckle again. The avatar pulled back slightly, startled. In that brief moment of inattention, Zuko spun, reversing their positions in a heartbeat.

He was still laughing, a very small sound, as if it didn't get to see daylight often. Zuko shifted his mask – to the side, Aang noticed, so that it still covered his scar – and bent towards the smaller boy. He caught one of the avatar's hands in his own and brought it up, gently pressing his lips to his own thumb, resting over the arrow there. "I have to get back," he whispered. He began to stand, then paused, consciously releasing his grip-

Aang spun as quickly as he could, pinning the teen beneath him again. He wasn't ready to let this end, especially if that gleam in the other's eye had been what Aang thought it was. Carefully he pressed his weight down, gently bringing one leg up, pressing lightly against the other's body and bringing a completely different gleam to his eye. Zuko arched slightly, gasping at the pressure, and Aang applied a bit more, moving his leg slowly up.

The prince groaned, his visible eye slipping closed as he brought his hands to the other boy's shoulders, bunching the fire nation cloak in his fists. It felt like he was going to try and dislodge him, but to Aang's joy, all thoughts of escape seemed to fade as he shifted his legs again. Aang hesitated, suddenly unsure how far he wanted to take this. He started to pull back, but Zuko's grip tightened, a little groan of protest escaping him. Aang tried very hard not to giggle; if that wasn't an invitation . . .

-o-o-o-o-o-

Zuko's mind was racing. It was dark in this ally, far removed from the light of the festival. He'd almost missed it entirely, hadn't, in fact, noticed it until he'd looked a second time. This boy was just a dancer, a fire nation citizen enjoying the festival. Probably the son of an army man, trying to brighten the day of other participants. But he'd _seen _the arrow, and glimpses of the boy's colorful clothes under the outer cloak.

He'd spoken first. He'd spoken and he'd shown his face! There was _no way_ the other didn't know who he was! He had to know, yet he was . . . Zuko shuddered and moaned again. He had to stop this, but . . . but he had to keep the avatar here. He tightened his hold again, fisting his hands in the red fabric. The boy on top of him moved his leg again, tearing a moan from the prone prince. Then he stopped, shifting to move his mask.

He kept it low on his head, hiding almost all of his features. The string of yellow leaves hung down past his eyes, hiding what the carved mask didn't. He lowered his head, nipping along Zuko's neck, making the boy gasp. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening. Fingers shifted, ghosting along his sides, dragging more shivers from his body. Zuko tightened his grip again, knuckles whitening under the stress.

The boy on top of him shifted again, one hand slipping to the waist of the simple pants Zuko had worn for the festival. He shivered again as a cool hand slipped under fabric to brush against hot flesh. Wait, he wasn't really going to-

Oh, gods, he _was_! Zuko groaned, one hand flying out to his side. He pushed up slightly, but the avatar's fingers closed around his member and Zuko fell back again. This could _not_ be happening. The other's free hand slid up his body, dragging nails as he went, and slipped behind his head. Fingers tangled in the knot of hair atop his head and pulled gently. Zuko's mind went completely blank; his head slid back and he groaned loudly.

The avatar took good advantage of the exposed neck, nipping and sucking at collarbones and the rapid pulse point that was exposed. All the while, the loose grip on his manhood remained, pumping softly, maddeningly distracting. All Zuko could do was groan again, trying to find purchase again in the boy's cape when all his hands wanted to do was wrap around the smaller body and hold him closer.

There was a gasp from the other and in a distant corner of Zuko's mind he connected the sound to the avatar's voice, but at that moment he couldn't bring himself to care. He managed to look up to notice the other boy's pants had been pulled down. With a grunt of effort and a sudden breeze, Zuko found his own pants pulled down to his knees.

He saw his chance. Zuko rolled again, forcing the younger teen onto his back. He gasped again and muscles tensed, but then Zuko pressed against him. There was no more thought of home or war, all that mattered was the warmth beneath him. Zuko lowered himself onto the boy; the friction was heaven. For a moment, the other did nothing, seeming stunned. Then there was a pair of arms around Zuko's back, pulling him closer. Zuko groaned loudly again, moving against the boy and letting his brain simply melt away.

The avatar stiffened suddenly, flipping their positions again in an instant. Zuko growled, digging fingers into the boy's shoulders, but he was ignored. The avatar pulled away slightly, strangled noises coming from his throat. Then he reached down, his hand wrapped tightly around Zuko again. The prince's shirt was suddenly shoved up, that devilish mouth finding purchase on a bud of a nipple, and Zuko stiffened. He held on for dear life as his focus narrowed to a single point, and shook as he emptied himself into the other boy's hand.

He lay there for several moments, panting, fingers now lax and barely hanging on to the fabric of the cloak. The avatar shifted again, slowly this time, bringing their faces together. He opened his mouth to speak, Zuko could hear the intake of breath. "I'm sorry."

The avatar fell silent, apparently shocked at the older boy's words. Zuko turned his head to the side, not having the strength to do more to escape the boy's presence. "I'm sorry that tomorrow, this will mean nothing."

There was another pause and Zuko felt cool hands on his jaw. "I was asked to give you something." The boy tasted slightly salty as he pressed their lips together. Zuko tried not to enjoy it, tried to believe this was just a fire nation peasant – the son of a soldier – simply enjoying the festival. A dance was nothing; even this, what they'd just done, it meant nothing. A kiss meant a great deal more.

The boy pulled back and sat up, releasing Zuko from this dizzying spell for the first time in he didn't know how long. Zuko continued to lay there, unmoving. After a moment he reached down to straighten his clothing and retie his pants. He shivered. There was a rustle of cloth and a sudden warmth on top of him and then he could hear the other boy running back down the ally. For a second he thought he heard the wind whisper a goodbye.

Slowly, very slowly, Zuko sat up. He clutched the thick cloak to his chest, then shifted it onto his shoulders as he stood. He walked to the mouth of the ally slowly, pulling his mask the rest of the way off as he went. He moved towards the ship, staring at his feet the whole way.

"Are you leaving the festival so soon, Prince Zuko?"

Zuko growled at the familiar voice. He didn't bother looking at Iroh and resisted the urge to say something unkind to the man. Finally he managed to shake his head once. "I'm going to bed. No disturbances."

Behind him, the older man made a thoughtful noise, lifting his own mask to watch his nephew leave. He replaced the piece of carved ceramic slowly, turning back to the small weapons display he was watching. He watched in silence as two figures across the clearing dressed in blue beneath their cloaks turned to leave.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Aang took a minute to go back to the dance. It had shrunk slightly, the majority of the people wandering off for other events. The dancers were still dancing, but the outer ring had mostly stopped. The dancer that had chosen Aang smiled at him, waving slightly. He stayed, watching as the dance finished, before he went to find his friends.

The three of them found each other almost right away, following the flow of the crowd. Aang hurried ahead of them, following the crowd. He knew he wasn't being followed, part of why he'd gone back to the dance fist, but he needed to get away from there, get his mind off of what had just happened. "Aang, hold on, where are we going?"

The boy sped his steps, turning in place to look back at Katara. "I don't know, but there's a big crowd, so it must be good." Something other than the things that happened when there was no crowd at all.

"Knowing the Fire Nation, it's probably an execution," Sokka quipped, following the others rather more slowly.

Aang grinned behind his mask. He was beginning to learn a lot about the Fire Nation and knew that wasn't true. He wondered what this crowd-draw really would be.

-o-o-o-o-o-


End file.
